


Anthy's Turn

by sharnii



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Continuation, Comfort/Angst, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/F, Female Friendship, Friendship, Friendship is Magic, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Magic Revealed, Male-Female Friendship, Other, Post-Anime, Post-Canon, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-26
Updated: 2009-06-26
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharnii/pseuds/sharnii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Duel called Revolution it's Anthy's turn to go to Utena. But where in the world is the girl who wanted to be a prince?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anthy's Turn

Anthy’s Turn

_by sharnii_

 

Acknowledgement: A big thank you to teyhy for the delicious fanart (inserted at relevant places in the story).

* * *

 

_Now it’s my turn to go to you._

_No matter where you are, I’ll find you for sure._

_Wait for me, Utena._

_~ Anthy in Episode 39: ‘Someday, Shine With Me’_

 

* * *

 

Her frozen face thawed.

Hot tears poured down her cheeks.

For just an instant, a miraculous world-revolutionizing instant, she found herself believing, against all hope, against everything reasonable.

 

She reached…up…toward Utena, the prince (yes prince) reaching down for her.

 

Their fingers brushed.

 

Their hands joined, for just that instant, the most electrifying instant of her eons.

 

And then their hands slipped. Anthy screamed. Anthy fell.

 

Utena’s horrified eyes filled her horizon (like the dawn) but the horizon was being swallowed up by storm-hued sky, and Utena was fast becoming a tiny speck, and Anthy’s coffin was falling, falling, plummeting toward something…something new…

 

Something beyond the swords, something beyond anything she had ever known.

 

A new world. A new beginning.

 

* * *

 

Panting for breath she sat up. She was in the tower’s bedroom, the room where she had shared so many strange moments (unexpected moments) with Tenjou Utena. Himemiya Anthy pushed away her sheets and stared across at her victor’s bed. It was made (so neatly too); Utena hadn’t slept there. ChuChu sat up on Utena’s pillow and gave a plaintive cheep, clearly asking Anthy where his playmate was. He looked forlorn, and Anthy chewed her lip.

 

She glanced at the wall-length windows – it was early morning. As though in a dream she rose and went to stare out of them. The sun, so bright, so warm against her skin. Her heart, thudding like a train speeding toward becoming a trainwreck, thudding in the cavity of her chest where she only ever kept a sword.

 

_Not a heart. Never a heart…_

 

It was strange. Strange like being with Utena, hearing the strange things that those cupid lips always uttered. Like:

 

_“I guess there really are people you mustn’t fall in love with.”_

“I guess…” murmured the rose bride. She looked around again, searching for something, someone. Utena, where was she? It was breakfast time, this victor was a constantly hungry one. Really, Anthy needed to start making breakfast. But…where was Utena? Her heart thudded in her chest. Her nightgown was beginning to stick to her body with sweat, acrid sweat that smelled like fear. Anthy felt a little embarrassed…why wasn’t she in control of her…emotions? Yes, emotions, that was what these alien things were. Horrible, mind-consuming emotions.

 

It had been so long…

 

_“I came to this Ohtori Academy to meet a prince.”_

Utena’s voice in her memories, saying such strange things, and sometimes blatantly untrue things. Anthy blinked, turning away from the window and hearing her own reply echo in her pounding head.

 

_“Does it look like you’ll get to meet this prince?”_

 

She remembered being disdainful (in a vague sort of way), and maybe even a tiny bit angry…no depressed. Somewhere deep inside (somewhere buried). That wasn’t why Utena had come…was it? Utena was such a fool. Oh wait, Utena was saying something else now.

 

 _“Prince-like people, would-be princes, people I want to be princes…”_ A pause.

_“But a ‘prince’ is…”_

_I don’t know_ , thought Anthy, rather shocked at herself for considering the subject at all. _What is a prince?_

 

Where was Utena?

 

She went outside, into the planetarium. Akio was already there, reading the paper like it was just another day (was it?).

 

“Breakfast, Anthy,” he commanded, without looking up. “Hurry it up.”

 

For a moment she stared at him: this was surreal. Also normal. She went to make breakfast, still wondering, constantly wondering where Utena was. She served breakfast to her brother, still wondering. She sat on the couch next to him (but not too close, she never sat too close if she could help it) and sipped tea, and stared up at the planetarium.

 

With a gasp the teacup clattered from her suddenly nerveless fingers, shattering into a million shards of china. The planetarium. There was a crack in the planetarium. Right through the centre…it looked like it would split in half and fall to the floor at any moment, crushing both herself and her brother.

 

“Clean that up,” ordered Akio, sounding just a tad annoyed. “What’s wrong with you today, Anthy?”

 

She blinked again. The planetarium was whole, normal. Akio was staring assessingly at her, steepling his fingers together in that way he had.

 

“Do you miss her?” he asked, and his voice was faintly mocking. “Your so-called friend? It’s a shame she failed, just like all the others.” Shaking his head from side to side as though it was a pity, as though he felt remorse, he picked up his paper again. “We could have been happy together,” he muttered, and she blinked, thinking that the last part might have been her imagination.

 

Saying nothing she went to get a cloth from the kitchen. She remembered that Utena was gone, the duel called revolution was passed (no use crying over spilt milk). She didn’t know why she hadn’t wanted to think about it until now, but she hadn’t forgotten. It’s not like she could’ve forgotten the unbelievable: the rose gate opening, waking in her coffin and wondering what was happening.

 

Meeting Utena for the first time.

 

She had fallen, that’s what had happened, fallen like the teacup, fallen to wake up in her natural place, which was no great surprise. Her natural place at Akio’s side…Utena was gone (there’d be a new victor soon). Kneeling, Anthy began to clean up. Her brother’s fashionable shoe tapped impatiently.

 

_“Stupid! He does all this, and you still submit to him?”_

 

Anthy blinked. Nothing, just a memory, a memory from the first duel that Utena had fought. Nothing but a random memory. Why did she keep having them? Why did she keep thinking, keep feeling? It was odd, so odd. Not like her at all.

 

Where was Utena?

 

* * *

 

Later Anthy went to the rose garden, to care for the roses. There was something different about the day, something in the air, burning away the fog. Ohtori Academy seemed to have a sense of expectation about it; students were happy, running merrily through the halls. There were no secret assignations in the garden, a most unusual occurrence. Anthy watered the roses alone.

 

Yet she kept looking up, waiting for a pink head to pop in and tell her something strange, maybe even laughable.

 

 _There’s nothing for you to apologize about. I chose this by myself_.

 

Chose what? she wondered, musing over their almost final words. What had Utena ended up choosing?

 

Where was Utena?

 

* * *

 

It took Anthy several months to process what had happened. During that time she kept to her normal routine (what else would she do?), except that she didn’t sleep much, just stared at Utena’s empty bed. She served her brother (who seemed preoccupied), watered the roses, and gathered information for their future (by watching and waiting, her specialties). In this way she discovered that the other duelists seemed different, strange in a way that reminded her of Utena.

 

She couldn’t stop thinking about Utena.

 

She stared at Wakaba in the hall as some random girl glomped her (it made Anthy feel like being sick). She watched from the shadows of the dojo as Nanami served her brother and his best friend tea (it seemed unlike Nanami, to say the least). She watched Kozue help her twin help Tsuwabuki (unnatural). She watched Juri fence with Shiori, and wondered what it would be like to actually pick up a sword and fence with Utena. But of course Anthy didn’t fence (but neither had Shiori…).

 

Everywhere students were talking about their futures, and what they dreamed about doing. Anthy had never heard so many unrealistic expectations in such a short period of time. Suddenly she was desperate for more information, more of a grip on what was happening. She didn’t want apathy; she craved awareness.

 

Where was Utena?

 

Whenever she heard Utena’s name come up in gossip, Anthy guiltlessly eavesdropped on students she didn’t know. Despite Utena’s popularity they seemed to have no clue who Utena was, not really, and Anthy was shocked. The rumors they toyed with sent shivers down her spine:

 

“Didn’t she get hurt really badly?...A few months back and have to be hospitalized?”

 

“Huh? Hospitalized? I heard a friend or her boyfriend betrayed her…and she transferred to another school.”

 

“I heard she got in trouble with the Chairman, and got expelled.”

 

 _No,_ thought Anthy, _none of those things. Or all of these things. I…don’t know…_

 

She was so uncertain these days. So unknowing. It was unusual for her, different. Uncomfortable. She longed for something secure, something that made her feel happy.

 

She hadn’t known that she cared about her own happiness. Or that she knew what it was.

 

 _Was Utena happy?_ _Wherever she was? And…_

_WHERE WAS UTENA?!_

 

* * *

 

It took Anthy that whole time to wake up to reality, to realize that waking up in her coffin for the first time didn’t mean nothing. It meant something, it meant more than she had even known how to hope for.

 

When she finally realized that she set her teeth, and went to talk to her brother in his tower.

 

He was aghast, childlike in his wonder at her contrary actions.

 

Anthy herself felt surreal, new, bursting with inner elation. She took off her glasses and set them on his table and it was like taking off her clothes and being naked, only it felt good. It was like sloughing off her skin and growing wings. She thoroughly enjoyed smiling at him, enjoyed saying “Farewell”, so much more than she’d enjoyed anything for as long as she could remember. ChuChu was miserable as he took off his tie and earring, but Anthy felt like singing, felt like cheering as they stalked out silently (ChuChu dejected, she triumphant), leaving slavery behind.

 

She picked out a pink travelling outfit with a stylish white beret (so cute) and thought about the things Utena might say when she saw Anthy in it (And she would see her. Anthy had hope, she had it bursting out of her like she’d never had anything).

 

“Oi, Himemiya, that’s so pretty!”

 

Anthy smirked to herself. Unlikely…

 

“What the heck are you wearing?! That’s so…girly…”

 

ChuChu made his trademark noise and hefted a sack of cookies on his back. Smiling openly at him (it felt so good) Anthy picked him up and set him on her shoulder.

 

“Wow, Himemiya. I’ve never seen you wear that before. It looks…very you.”

 

 _Yes_ , Anthy decided, settling on that fantasy. That’s what she would like Utena to say. Of course she’d settle for anything, as long as she found Utena.

 

She picked up her suitcase, and stepped over the threshold of Ohtori Academy, out into a new world. It was time to shine, to be herself, to show that self to the only one who’d ever wanted to see it.

 

Time to find Utena.

 

* * *

 

Anthy sat on the train and thought about how to best continue her search. It would be silly to wander aimlessly all over the countryside (Although in her initial elation she’d done exactly that). She had access to considerable resources, she should use them all. Firstly she knew Utena: she had to think like Utena, think what she would do and where she would go. She should consult ChuChu, and her scrying bowl, and perhaps some human detectives (Sometimes professionals could be useful. And this was their world). She also knew about other worlds, and she knew likely fates (but not definite ones) for a prince. She should envision the final duel, try to see what might have happened next.

 

But none of it would work for sure (It had to! It simply had to!).

 

She spent the morning making phone calls, going through the phonebook securing the services of various private investigators in cities throughout the country. ChuChu hustled about busily, popping out of existence, and popping back an hour later with Utena’s school records.

 

“They need to be photocopied and faxed,” Anthy told him, and he started chittering angrily and gesturing at the foodcart gliding past their carriage’s door.

 

“Work first, food later,” said Anthy firmly, and after a dance of rage he popped away again. Anthy shook her head at his greediness. Utena had spoiled him far too much, but Anthy had thought it vaguely sweet at the time (None of the other victors paid him any attention at all).

 

Anthy spent the afternoon peering into her makeshift scrying bowl while ChuChu stuffed his face on the seat beside her. A passing conductor gave her a strange look, but she didn’t bother to look back. Two elderly ladies paused at the door of her carriage at one stop, consulting in wavering and slightly too-loud tones over whether to join her.

 

“There’s room, Hana-chan,” said one, “plenty of room.”

 

“She looks strange,” whispered back Hana. “And what’s she doing staring into her teacup like that, huh, Reiko-chan? Huh? She could be one of those crazy delinquents we keep hearing about.”

 

“You and your crazy delinquents. She’s just a young lady. A regular young lady. Get in the carriage. I want to sit down. My bones ache.”

 

“Just a regular young lady, huh?” muttered Reiko sarcastically. “I’m so sure. With a pet rat, I hear that’s all the rage this year.”

 

Anthy picked that moment to look up and smile. She didn’t want company; she pretended she was smiling at Kanae, telling her sweetly that of course she would call her sister (any day now…).

 

It had the desired effect. The old ladies gasped, and started backing away.

 

“I told you!” hissed Hana as they hurried away as fast as their canes could propel them. “Another delinquent!”

 

Anthy smiled to herself, and let her eyes go unfocused again. Beside her ChuChu was chortling, spraying cake crumbs onto his whiskers.

 

* * *

 

That evening they stayed in a hotel and Anthy made a list about Utena.

 

**a) Utena needs to finish highschool. Check highschools’ enrollments.**

**b) Utena might be hurt. Check hospitals.**

**c) Utena might be confused. Check homeless shelters.**

**d) Utena might have forgotten. Check…everywhere.**

 

She put her pen down and sighed. It wasn’t any use making a list, not when the possibilities were in actuality, endless. Even if she could narrow it down (which she couldn’t), it didn’t really help. Say Utena had continued highschool at some other school. She might not be using the same name (making school records useless). She might have forgotten who she was just the same. She might…gods forbid…hate Anthy and actively seek to block her search…

 

Anthy put her head in her hands and wept. Why was she crying? She’d been so happy, so excited, and now she was close to despair. Was this normal? Was this how regular people felt all the time? Was she regular? Who was she anyway, now that Utena had…changed her?

 

“I need her,” she murmured to ChuChu, who was hugging her knee.

 

She didn’t know how to be this new Anthy, not without Utena.

 

ChuChu chirped in agitation, and she patted him, sniffling and trying to stop crying.

 

“We’ll find her,” she told him fiercely. “We’ll find her for sure. No matter where she is.” She said it like the vow it was.

 

* * *

 

Anthy was at a loss. Six months had passed (an eternity) and she’d had no luck. She needed luck, because magic wasn’t working very well in this world. Oh it still worked, but with much less…certainty. For one thing, scrying was next to useless, showing nothing but swirling mists of maybes. Could be that was something to do with Utena, or maybe it was to do with reality verses magic, Anthy didn’t know.

 

She didn’t know things the way she always had before. She sat in yet another hotel (this one cheap and dingy) and thought about her situation while ChuChu snored on the bed.

 

Private investigators were eating away her funds (not that she couldn’t get more, but it wasn’t exactly child’s play), and apparently wasting her time. Hospitals were frustratingly difficult to get information out of, even with her clever cover-stories. Homeless shelters didn’t know homeless people’s names, and it seemed their hair was often too dirty to be sure if it was pink or not. No Tenjou Utena had turned up at a highschool, or even at a college. Maybe Utena was working somewhere instead…

 

 _What do I do?_ Anthy wondered. _I’ll look forever…but we might not have forever._ Her vaunted patience seemed to be leaking out of her tear-ducts, day by drifting day. Besides…

 

_Utena might need me. What if she’s…_

 

Anthy couldn’t finish the thought. Instead she did what she usually did at these dark moments, thought about Utena, replaying their time together.

 

_“It must be nice to have a brother or a sister…being an only child, I’m jealous.”_

 

Anthy smiled sadly. Utena was always jealous of family. Little did she know… She picked a different memory instead.

 

_“They say when you’ve grown up, you long for your childhood, but children are impatient to grow up. Does thinking like that mean I’m still a child?”_

 

Anthy brushed a tear off her cheek. Was Utena still childlike even now? Did she hold onto that innocence that lit her from within? (and made her seem so very stupid). Anthy had told her (with inner amusement she remembered) that she, Anthy was already an adult.

 

_“Wha…what do you mean by ‘adult’?”_

 

Anthy giggled, then sighed. Utena would be an adult now, an adult in the real world. There was no escaping it. What would that be like? What would it be like to look into big blue eyes that were filled with…knowing.

 

“I want to find out,” she whispered, “I have to find out.”

 

And then it came to her in her own flash of knowing. The swords. Utena might have the swords…Anthy had even seen them coming and begged Utena to escape.

 

_The prince bears the swords…how strange…_

 

Yes, the more she thought about it, the more the theory made sense. After all, Anthy was free now, she felt it in every annoying emotion, every moment of half-remembered pain and the glorious state of being so blessedly pain-free. Six months later she still couldn’t get used to it, not having that teeth-buzzing humming in the back of her mind, those spiteful comments spat out about people, about herself, for her to nod to silently, resignedly.

 

If…if Utena had the swords…as hellish as the thought was, as unpalatable, then she would be…different. Anthy chewed her lip, wondering what form that difference might take. And then she picked up the phonebook and looked up a new set of numbers.

 

* * *

 

She found Utena at the sixth asylum she called.

 

“Who did you say you were?” queried the bored voice on the other end, having just confirmed that yes, one Tenjou Utena was in residence.

 

“Family,” husked Anthy, too close to tears to say anything else. She set the phone down. She couldn’t talk right now, couldn’t do anything but feel like breaking apart, throat thick with the guilt of not checking out this particular avenue sooner.

 

ChuChu woke up and burrowed under her blouse, cuddling to her desperately. She clutched her head and tried to think, tried to work out what needed doing next. She couldn’t stop here, couldn’t take time for grief or guilt or any other human weakness. She needed to go to Utena. But how to get to her?

 

* * *

 

The Asylum was a massive brick mansion, converted from some former purpose to have bars on the windows, and electronic locks on the doors.

 

“Welcome, Himemiya-sensei,” said the (still bored-looking) receptionist, respectfully rising from her seat. “Abe-sensei will be with you momentarily.” Anthy nodded, and sat gracefully on one of the visitor’s chairs, pushing new glasses (uncomfortably) back up her nose. She didn’t like wearing them, but she’d thought they added nicely to her persona as a transferring psychiatrist. Similarly her hair was pinned up in the old (and achingly familiar) style, and she had donned a white labcoat over her flatteringly-cut business suit. At the very least, she looked professional. At the most, it might make her more familiar to Utena.

 

_Utena…_

 

She was so close now. Tension was humming through her body, making her sick to the stomach with anticipation.

 

“Ah, Himemiya-sensei, you’ve arrived.” The head doctor was tall and rather ugly, all currenty eyes and bushy black beard. Anthy found this reassuring; she’d had enough of angelic beauty to last her several lifetimes.

 

“I must admit, I’m surprised,” confided Abe Hideo as he led her down the hallway to his office. “This place…we don’t have much funding I’m sorry to admit, and all the hopeless cases seem to end up here. It’s been a long time since we had a doctor transfer in.” Sinking into his deskchair he peered at her over his glasses. “In fact, I don’t know if anyone’s ever transferred in before.” He glanced down at some papers on his table. “Especially someone with your own glowing record…”

 

Anthy colored beneath her dusky skin and told herself off mentally. She attempted to look bland and uninterested, and long practice ensured she succeeded.

 

“Thank you,” she said politely, and it was his turn to blush. Anthy accepted that as her due; she seemed to have that effect on men of all times and all places. It wasn’t something to even notice anymore.

 

“So…” he said, obviously fishing for information. “You like hard cases?”

 

“Yes,” said Anthy simply. He blinked. She blinked back. He seemed to want something more…

 

“I like a challenge,” she added, watching him to see if it was enough. He laughed a little and nodded, and she masked another wave of relief.

 

“Well you’ll certainly get that here,” he said, gesturing to the other chair for her to sit. “I don’t think I’ve had one patient get better yet.” When she stared at him he sighed. “Oh we do our best for them…I try to make progress, but I think in most of these cases they’re too far gone. The conditions are incurable, that’s pretty much why they’re here.” He stroked his tie in a self-congratulatory manner. “All we can do is try to keep them safe and happy…provide them a decent and humane life.” He had the audacity to smirk. “If you want to transfer out again, I understand…”

 

“No,” she said firmly, in a tone that brooked no argument. “I’ll stay.” Inside she was shivering, matching his description against whatever had happened to Utena…outside she was calm.

 

Hideo seemed surprised but pleased.

 

“Alright then. We have a spare office down the hall, and I’ll send my assistant over with some case records for you to peruse. If you see anything interesting, you’re more than welcome to take it off my hands.”

 

[FAN ART "Himemiya-sensei" by teyhy: <http://teyhy.deviantart.com/art/Himemiya-sensei-181454083>]

 

* * *

 

In her office Anthy stared at the one case folder she cared about, studying the information religiously. A lot of it was technical and beyond her expertise. But she got the gist of it, and the gist seemed to be that Utena had the swords.

 

ChuChu cheeped a question at her from where he was sitting half-sunk in the inkwell, and she nodded at him.

 

“Yes. She’s been here most of this time.”

 

Six months, and the records said that Utena had been admitted to a mental home (not this one) straight out of hospital, where she’d been screaming her voice raw about hate and witches and princes, and trying over and over to escape. The hospital had kept her sedated while her wound healed (which appeared to have been made by a sword of all things. The nurses feared it was self-inflicted, most likely a suicide attempt. What else could it be? But the doctors said it was at the wrong angle. Had she been abused?).

 

Nobody had come forward to claim her, no relatives, no friends. She was just a teenager too, it was sad, so sad…no choice but to make her a ward of the state. When she was whole again (relatively speaking) the hospital admitted her to the nearby mental home, where the doctors tried to start lowering her sedation levels.

 

The patient was paranoid they wrote, always looking over her shoulder and mumbling about swords and pitchforks, and then falling down and rolling around in apparent pain, shrieking for all she was worth (one less than professional doctor scrawled ‘Crazy as a Loon’ in the report margin).

 

Of course there was nothing physically wrong with her, nothing whatsoever. It was all psychosomatic, some kind of persecution complex. Or maybe a re-occurring flashback that she seemed to have no control over. Maybe the so-called swords were symbolic of something else…maybe they were a metaphor for what had really happened to her.

 

There were brief examples (hours mostly, but sometimes days) where she was semi-coherent (despite the medication), and that was how they found out her name, although she wasn’t good for much else. She seemed to like asking philosophical questions about eternity, but overall was a perfectly nice young lady. But that all changed in the blink of an eye, nobody could predict the catalyst…maybe it was schizophrenia?

 

If they lessened her medication (so they started increasing it instead) she would cry out for someone, pitifully cry out a name until she had no voice left. Reading this Anthy pressed her hand to her mouth. The name wasn’t recorded. But she knew what it was.

 

There was more, material horribly painful for her to read, accounts of nightmares, and sleepwalking, and violent episodes, and eventually of a tranferral to this place (because she wasn’t going to get better, that much was clear. No treatment had worked). Anthy turned the page and through tears that made wet blots on the paper saw that Utena was currently in a straight jacket, tucked away in solitary confinement. Apparently she’d attacked an orderly only a week ago, as he was delivering roses to another patient.

 

Anthy whimpered, she couldn’t help it. It was worse, so much worse than she’d hoped it would be (but quite in keeping with her nightmares). ChuChu had struggled out of the inkwell and moved to set his paw on the paper, his tail drooping over Anthy’s hand.

 

“I have to try,” whispered Anthy, half to herself, half to him. Did she remember how to try, how to keep going when something was hard, and maybe even impossible? She wasn’t sure that she knew how, but she remembered Utena, the way they had been. The way Utena had always tried. What was it Utena had yelled at Akio during that last duel, while Anthy struggled to wake from apathy?

 

_“I won’t let you beat me.”_

 

Anthy squared her shoulders. “I won’t let this beat me.”

 

* * *

 

Anthy stood at the door to Utena’s padded cell, staring in the tiny window at her prince.

 

_This isn’t how it’s supposed to be…when we meet again…_

 

But this was how it was. She took a deep breath, then nodded at the orderly, who gave her a respectful nod back and unlocked the door. Anthy stepped inside and looked at the girl in the straight-jacket, curled up on her side in the corner. The door closed behind her.

 

“Utena,” she said quietly, shivering as she tasted that sweetly familiar name on her tongue.

 

No response.

 

 _Maybe she doesn’t recognize me_ , thought Anthy desperately. _Or maybe she doesn’t recognize her name…_

 

“Utena-sama,” she tried instead, then took an involuntarily step back as that got an immediate response. Utena moaned. Nothing more, but it was clearly audible. Anthy folder her arms over her labcoat (she was shivering), and wondered what to do. She wasn’t a real doctor…she didn’t know how to help Utena…but she wanted to so badly.

 

She stared down at Utena and reminded herself that none of the real doctors had been able to help. She reminded herself that she knew the swords (oh, but she was scared) and none of them did, and that this was Utena, and Utena needed her like nobody ever had before (except for Dios… all those years ago…).

 

Tentatively she kneeled beside Utena and touched her shoulder. There, a flinch.

 

“Utena-sama,” she said again, daring to brush long pink strands out of Utena’s face. There they were, those big blue eyes, staring up at her in dazed confusion.

 

“Do you know me?” she asked, daring to hope for the impossible.

 

“Y…you’resh…” Utena trailed off, then started again, pressing her eyes shut. “W…witch. Bitch. Wh…whore.” She opened her eyes again and stared up at the gaping Anthy. There had been no venom in her weak voice, and her eyes weren’t accusing – it was like she was simply stating a fact.

 

 _The swords_ , thought Anthy (those names were so familiar), trying to push away her own shock and hurt. _She doesn’t recognize me._ Her lips pursed. _Or not yet…_

 

“Let me help you sit up,” she said, deciding to take a step back in this process. Utena was docile as Anthy took her shoulders and with some difficulty hoisted her up into a sitting position. She didn’t struggle, she didn’t help, she just leaned against the wall in her straight-jacket and stared vacantly at Anthy.

 

Anthy stared back. She couldn’t help noticing that Utena’s eyes moved over her hungrily for all that they were unfocused, drinking in her glasses, her hair, her lips. She wondered what it meant, if it even meant anything at all. Regardless it filled her with hope. She decided that everything would from now on, every small sign. She needed it to.

 

For her part she studied Utena, cringing at the bruises that purpled against the fair skin of her cheeks, and the way her head lolled just a little.

 

“Who are yoush?” slurred Utena, and Anthy frowned at how out of it she seemed. Really, was this level of sedation even necessary?

 

“Himemiya Anthy,” she said, watching Utena closely. There was no definable reaction. Anthy sighed and tried again. “I’m a doctor here now.”

 

“Oh,” mumbled Utena. She blinked, looking just a little surprised.

 

“Your doctor,” added Anthy, and was it her imagination or did Utena look even more surprised?

 

“Oh,” said Utena again, leaning her head back against the wall. “Uh…hi.”

 

“Hi,” echoed Anthy, the diminutive of the greeting rolling strangely off her tongue. Furiously she blinked. She didn’t want to cry, not right now…

 

“I’m going to get you out of this room,” she told Utena, who now stared at her as if she was something rather fascinating. “But to do that…we’ll have to work together.”

 

Utena licked dry lips and seemed to be trying very hard to think. Anthy couldn’t help herself, she put one hand on Utena’s calf, almost gasping at the warmth she felt through the pajama pants. Utena was really here… She was really here with Anthy…

 

“How?” Utena decided on, and her leg twitched beneath Anthy’s hand.

 

“I need you to…control the swords,” said Anthy, thinking the best route was honesty when it came to Tenjou Utena.

 

“Y…you b’lieve me?” Shock seemed to bring clarity to Utena for a moment.

 

“Yes,” said Anthy earnestly, “I do. But nobody else will. You need to hide what the swords are saying, what they are doing. No violence.”

 

She trailed a hand down Utena’s cheek, tenderly avoiding the bruising. She was simply unable to keep from touching her, inappropriate thought it might appear to anybody watching. She hoped no-one was watching.

 

She watched as Utena swallowed, hard.

 

“I…I’ll try. But I dunno…” She trailed off tiredly.

 

“…If you can,” finished Anthy. “I know, I understand.”

 

“But I’ll try,” mumbled Utena, as her head lowered to her chest again.

 

“Good,” whispered Anthy. “That’s good.”

 

She wanted to pull Utena to her chest, to hug that unresisting body to herself, to unbuckle the straightjacket as fast as her fingers would do it, to magic them out of this hellhole.

 

But she couldn’t. It would be too much too soon, it would ruin her carefully-laid plans, and magic didn’t work like that here.

 

She settled for resting a hand on Utena’s calf again, wishing she could hold her hand instead. She sat there beside Utena for a long time, watching as she fell asleep, and then watching over her.

 

* * *

 

Anthy told Hideo that she was taking Utena’s case, and for the meantime only her case. He laughed in her face, then sobered and apologized profusely.

 

“You said you like a challenge,” he noted, running his fingers through his beard. He eyed her thoughtfully. “You do at that.” She didn’t like the way his eyes lingered on her curves, although she supposed it was only natural. Perhaps she was touchy about things like that. Although she’d never minded before…

 

“I’m going to lessen her medication,” she told him, wishing she didn’t have to deal with other people, “And start cognitive therapy once she’s more coherent.”

 

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking a little worried. “I know your record is…impressive, Sensei. But this patient is aggressive.”

 

“Leave it to me,” she told him, and he shrugged, and she realized it was probably good that he didn’t appear to care all that much about his patients. All the same she would have to take things slowly; she couldn’t have him pull seniority when it came to Utena’s case.

 

She would have to be careful.

 

* * *

 

Anthy was there a few days later when two burly male orderlies led an unresisting Utena out of her padded cell.

 

“Sensei,” said Utena, eyes a little clearer as she gazed at Anthy. The nurses were already decreasing her dosage by increments.

 

“Utena-san,” said Anthy, careful of what she said in front of others. “You remember me?”

 

“Suresh,” mumbled Utena, standing quite still as the straight jacket was unbuckled. But there was something in her eyes, a strange light that sent warning bells skittering along Anthy’s nerves.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned Utena, voice firmer than she had ever used on her in the past, much firmer than the voice of the rose bride.

 

Utena blinked and the light faded out of her eyes to be replaced by confusion.

 

“Remember what I said,” pressed Anthy, “when I came to you before. Do you remember?”

 

Utena blinked again, and looked down as her sleeves fell away from the buckle at her waist, and her arms dropped to her sides.

 

“My armsh hurt,” she mumbled, as the orderlies slipped the heavy jacket off entirely. Underneath Utena wore longsleeved blue pajamas, like all the patients. Anthy stepped over to her and gently, professionally took one arm, rubbing life back into it.

 

The orderlies gasped…there was no need for the doctor to be the one to…and besides, this patient was dangerous.

 

“I’ll take it from here,” Anthy said, voice firm.

 

“But Sensei…” protested one.

 

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Anthy made her voice cold, and superior, thinking the result was something like that annoying Nanami girl. It had the desired effect: the orderlies cringed and fled.

 

She turned back to Utena who was staring at her again, staring at the dark fingers moving up and down her arm.

 

“Better?” she asked gently, taking up the other arm when Utena gave small nod. This time Utena emitted tiny whimpers as Anthy massaged away a cramp. The bruises on her face were yellow today, almost faded away.

 

“What caused this?” Anthy asked, setting the arm down, where it hung limply at Utena’s side. Her hand cupped Utena’s cheek, and she peered into those wonderfully familiar eyes. Utena blinked at her, looking a little trapped.

 

“I dunno,” she said, flinching away, but Anthy had a feeling she did. She sighed, letting her hand drop…this was hard…to have Utena reacting to her in this way. To look into her eyes and not see a stupidly determined tomboy looking back.

 

“Walk with me,” said Anthy, “we’ll go and talk in my office.”

 

Utena stared at her like she’d grown another head. Anthy started moving, keeping her pace deliberately slow. She didn’t turn her head but heard Utena stumbling after her.

 

“Would you like a wheelchair?” she asked, knowing what the answer would be.

 

“No!” Utena sounded outraged. “Of coursesh not.”

 

“Of course not,” echoed Anthy, allowing herself a tiny smirk. Well, at least some things stayed the same. A passing nurse gave them an incredulous look as Anthy held her office door open, and Utena moved unsteadily inside. Anthy made her face statue-like. The nurse blanched and fled, no doubt to gossip to her fellow nurses.

 

Inside Anthy gestured at her couch, and Utena flopped gratefully onto it.

 

 _Is she going to fall asleep?_ wondered Anthy. _She looks so tired._

 

She badly wanted to sit by Utena, no to lie down alongside her and wrap her body around the other girl’s. Instead she forced herself to perch in the nearby armchair, watching Utena attentively.

 

Blue eyes blinked back open.

 

“Why do yoush believe me?” Utena yawned and put her hands behind her head in a gesture so familiar it made Anthy’s heart skip a beat.

 

“You’re telling the truth,” said Anthy. She watched charmed as Utena actually grinned.

 

“Well…yeah, but your’esh the first to b’lieve me…”

 

Anthy shrugged primly, knowing from Utena’s suddenly attentive gaze that something else was expected, some other explanation.

 

“I know people,” she said, arrogant because it was true. Utena’s eyes widened. Then she actually smirked.

 

“Y’know,” she mumbled, “you seem…familiar.” Then her eyes drifted shut and she fell asleep, just like that. Anthy smiled across the room at ChuChu who popped up from where he’d been hiding in her draw, and was bouncing up and down elatedly on her desk.

 

This was progress.

 

* * *

 

Now that Utena was out of solitary confinement she was to sleep in a dormitory with other patients. Anthy fretted over the swords having interaction with people, and wondered how to control the situation. She couldn’t be with Utena 24/7 as her doctor, or even for a significant proportion of that. Her solution was to have her ‘nephew’ admitted.

 

“The family resemblance is striking,” murmured Hideo in the staffroom, as he stared down at a photo of said nephew. Various staff made sympathetic noises about the hardships of having mental illness in a family, while those same staff cast speculative looks at the new doctor (Looks that said it explained quite a bit…).

 

Anthy smiled grimly at the photo of Mamiya, before turning a bland face to her fellow doctor.

 

“Yes, it is.” She’d never thought she’d have to wear that guise again. But this…this was important…more important than anything. It was worth it. Utena was worth it.

 

“When does the poor boy get here?” asked Hideo, eyes idly going from the photo’s dot to the red dot on Anthy’s own forehead.

 

_Is he going to ask about my religion?_

 

Anthy tried not roll her eyes, and thanks to long practice succeeded.

 

“Oh, very soon. This afternoon. I have his case files right here.” She handed them over.

 

“Are you sure you’re comfortable having him so close?” asked Hideo, and for a moment Anthy wondered what he meant. Then she realized that having a ‘crazy’ relative might well be considered a family embarrassment, as well as a conflict of interests. She folded her hands in her lap and made her lip tremble, just the slightest bit.

 

“You said this was a place for the hopeless cases. And I…I’m afraid…his case is…” She pressed a hand to her mouth. Hideo immediately looked panicked.

 

“Oh, Himemiya-sensei, I’m so sorry to mention it…I…please don’t…I…” He cast about desperately and a nearby orderly handed Anthy a handkerchief, blushing all the while. The head nurse glowered across the room, her look changing to one of overly-done concern the moment Anthy’s eyes brushed hers. Anthy took the handkerchief and smiled into it.

 

It was too easy.

 

* * *

 

As Mamiya, Anthy made it his first mission to find Utena. Most of the patients were in the recreational room at this time, so he went there first. He looked all around, feeling vulnerable in his new blue pajamas (which were slightly too big). There she was, over there, curled up in an armchair in front of the tv, staring out the barred window instead of at the screen. The chairs around her were vacant, and Mamiya wondered if there was a reason the other patients avoided her.

 

He perched himself into the armchair on her left.

 

“Hello,” he said, “I’m Mamiya.”

 

Utena didn’t seem to register his arrival.

 

“Utena?” he asked, forgetting himself, and was unprepared for how quickly blue eyes snapped around to impale him.

 

“How do yoush know my…” she trailed off, staring at him in disbelief. Mamiya clenched his hands together nervously, fearing he’d already made a mistake he couldn’t recover from. Utena was staring at him feverishly, looking like she didn’t know quite what she was seeing.

 

“Y…you look like her…” she said at last, blinking rapidly. “W…why?”

 

“Like who?” he asked, wanting to see what she would say.

 

“L…like the woman who…” she stumbled to a halt, and changed direction. “The doctor.”

 

 _She’s slurring less,_ he noted.

 

“You mean Himemiya Anthy?” he asked, knowing of course exactly what she meant. It was strange to say his own name with these lips…he’d always called her/himself the rose bride. (And talked about killing her…)

 

“That’sh her name?” asked Utena, sinking back into her chair. “Yeah…”

 

“She’s my aunt,” he said.

 

Utena had gone back to staring out the window, but suddenly her eyes slid to the side again. She seemed to be struggling to form a question.

 

“Is that howsh…uh…you knew my name?”

 

“Yes,” he said, “sorry, Tenjou-san.” She blinked at him, then looked away again, obviously not knowing what to make of him. Mamiya was used to that.

 

They sat together all afternoon, not speaking again. Utena stared out the window. Mamiya watched tv; he was pleased to see a soap opera was the prescribed channel (the nurses always set it on what they themselves wanted to see). He liked soap operas. He liked the way people fell in and out of love so predictably, and everything was so overdone (nothing subtle at all).

 

He liked even more that he was so close to Utena, even if she appeared to be in another world entirely.

 

* * *

 

Men and women slept in different dorms but that (stupidly, luckily) didn’t apply to the underage patients. Mamiya claimed one of the empty beds (why were they empty?) next to Utena, and sat up to take his anti-depressants from the nurse on duty (Anthy had decided that Mamiya suffered from Dissasociative Identity Disorder). Some sleight of tongue (he’d always been good at that), and he stayed completely sober.

 

He snuggled under the covers and glanced over at Utena who was holding herself far too stiffly. She looked like she was about to leap up the moment the nurses left the room, and do something stupid. She was so easy to read…it made his heart lurch, how easy it was…

 

“Tenjou-san,” he said carefully, seeing that strange light in her eyes again as she turned to him. “Tenjou-san,” he repeated, trying to make his voice soothing. “What is it?”

 

She stared at him like she didn’t know why he would ask her such a thing, and simultaneously like she knew exactly who he was. It gave him the shivers; he thought the swords were very close in that moment…her eyes seemed more silver than blue in the pooling shadows.

 

“Nothing,” she hissed back. And then gathering herself visibly. “Go to sleep, Mamiya-kun.”

 

“But you look…angry,” he whispered back, a little shocked by her affectionate (and unwarranted) choice of honorific.

 

“I am,” she said, turning over onto her back, and staring up at the ceiling. Her body was completely tensed, again he thought she was about to spring up and sprint from the room.

 

“Why?” he asked, and she flicked an uneasy glance at him.

 

“Your eyes…” She gave a nervous laugh and looked back at the ceiling. “They’re so like…”

 

 _Does she know me?_ he wondered, faintly wondering at the thought. _Even like this?_

 

“Don’t do anything rash,” he begged her. “My aunt wants to help you.”

 

“Oh you know that, do yoush?” Utena’s voice began to slur again, and he could see she was getting tired. Well good, maybe she wouldn’t do something stupid after all.

 

“Sorry,” he said, thinking that maybe (and rightfully so) she’d be mad at his knowledge.

 

“It’s okay,” whispered Utena, surprising him again. “I admire p…people who want to help.” Her eyes slid shut and that wire-tight body finally relaxed. Mamiya sighed and allowed himself to relax too.

 

That had been close. Thank the gods he’d sent himself in.

 

* * *

 

It was taxing. Anthy had to be careful about the times and places she chose to be doctor than patient, and of when the changeovers happened. As always making herself into Mamiya left her weary, bone weary, and there were memories besides, disturbingly guilt-filled memories. Sometimes when she was curled up in the armchair beside Utena she thought she was with Mikage Souji instead. Sometimes as she lay in the dormitory darkness she thought of another darkness, a place where a hundred pairs of shoes were lined up against the walls and black roses flowered.

 

She hated the memories, and was anxious over being tired when she needed all her energy for the task at hand. But it was necessary, and it was her choice to change anyway (it had never been before). That made it bearable.

 

* * *

 

After a fortnight Utena was sober enough that Anthy decided they could start therapy in earnest. They sat in her office, Utena on the couch and Anthy in the armchair in front of it. Utena stretched out like she didn’t have a care in the world but her eyes were as guarded as Anthy had ever seen them. She didn’t remember Utena’s eyes ever being like that.

 

“So the swords speak to you?” she asked, starting their session without preamble. Utena blinked at her, then scratched her eyebrow.

 

“Uh…yeah…”

 

“What do they say?” Utena crossed her ankles looking uncomfortable.

 

“Oh…stuff. Not worth repeating. Not in front of…” she paused and looked a little embarrassed.

 

“A lady like me?” asked Anthy, and giggled. Utena smiled at her, then scowled, heat flaring in her pale cheeks. Anthy wanted to press a kiss to them. She restrained herself.

 

“What kind of…stuff?” she asked instead. “It’s important that you articulate it.” Utena clenched her hands in her pajama pants, clearly nervous.

 

“Oh like name-calling, and cursing, and uh blame. Stuff like that.”

 

“Hate?” guessed Anthy, perfectly aware of what the swords would be saying. Utena looked at her in surprise, her hands unclenching.

 

“Yeah. In one word, that would be it.”

 

“Do they hate you?”

 

“Sure.” Utena’s voice was bleak.

 

“Do they hate other people?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you hate other people?”

 

Utena didn’t answer. Her voice when it finally came out was strangled, and her hands were re-clenched.

 

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

 

“Do you hate yourself?” Anthy had read textbooks before starting this session but she wasn’t using any of them. This was instinct, pure and simple, and she was terrified about whether it would help at all. She watched, swallowing against an ache in her throat as Utena unconsciously hugged her knees to her chest, turning onto her side. She seemed to have forgotten about Anthy as she whispered her answer.

 

“…Yes.”

 

“Why?” Anthy fought to keep her voice calm. Professional.

 

“I failed…” Utena’s answer was immediate; it was clear it was something she thought about a lot.

 

“What?!” Anthy couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice. There was nothing professional about the way she gaped at her patient. “What?!” she repeated. Utena didn’t seem to notice, her eyes were distant and inward-looking.

 

“I don’t know,” she murmured, “but it was something big…something important, so important that I can’t stand to…” Her eyes flashed at Anthy then, huge with pain. “…to think about it…”

 

Anthy couldn’t help herself. Doctor or not she simply couldn’t cope with Utena like this, falling apart right in front of her.

 

“Utena,” she whispered, and before she knew what she was doing she was on her knees by the couch and had pried one of Utena’s hands off her knees to cradle it in her own. Too late she realized her mistake; Utena stared at her like she was crazy, then exploded away from her, leaping off the couch and backing herself into the nearest corner. Her body trembled with tension, and her eyes whirled with angry confusion.

 

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “What kind of doctor are you anyway?!”

 

Anthy was on a razor’s edge herself, and answered unthinkingly.

 

“You know who I am.”

 

Utena’s brows furrowed and she started to breathe hard and fast, like she fleeing from something, or running toward it.

 

“A…are you alright?” asked Anthy, suddenly fearing for Utena, for what this might be doing to her. A pause, a horribly charged moment and then…

 

“NO!” screamed Utena, glaring at her like she wanted to kill her. Anthy stared at her in shock, still kneeling by the couch.

 

“Witch!” Utena went on, voice quiet now, low and thick with hate. “You think I don’t know who you are...I know exactly what you are…”

 

“That’s the swords speaking,” Anthy said, making her voice stay steady, making herself stand to her feet and stare Utena down. “Isn’t it. Isn’t it, Utena-sama?”

 

“We’re going to kill you,” roared Utena, and her voice was even thicker now, and so familiar (in a different way) that it made Anthy’s back break out in cold sweat.

 

“You have to control this,” she said calmly, willing herself not to start shaking. An errant line of sweat dripped down her forehead and she watched Utena’s hungry eyes track it. “Listen to me…you can’t let anyone know about the swords. Or we’ll be back where we started.”

 

Utena blinked, still breathing heavily. Anthy thought furiously, thinking on her feet.

 

“Do you want that?” she asked Utena slowly, asked them. “To be back in a padded cell drugged out of your mind? Where you can’t…do anything, let alone kill me?”

 

Utena blinked and looked at her feet. Then while Anthy gaped she turned around and punched the wall with all her strength. Once, twice, a third time. Anthy heard bones crack all the way across the room and cried out in horror. Fearfully she glanced toward the door, glad beyond measure that she’d insisted on having the office sound-proofed…against regulations…

 

Utena was resting her forehead against the wall now, panting for breath and cradling her right hand to her chest. Hesitantly Anthy approached her, so quietly that there was no sound to mark her passage over the carpet. All that could be heard was Utena’s harsh breathing and occasional whimper.

 

Anthy made it to Utena’s side. Greatly daring, and without conscious thought she reached out to lay a hand on Utena’s shoulder. A moment of nerve-straining tension as Utena tensed beneath that hand…then Utena relaxed. Anthy reached out and turned her around, leaning her back against the wall.

 

She stared into frightened eyes that reminded her of those of a little girl, gazing up at her so long ago while shouting foolish promises of salvation.

 

“Utena,” she whispered, cupping her hands to tear-streaked cheeks. “Are you…alright?” Utena closed her eyes and Anthy’s heart thudded painfully as she felt the girl lean into her hand.

 

“Yeah,” whispered Utena, “sorry about that, Himemiya-sensei.”

 

She hung her head and Anthy kept stroking her cheeks, caught up in the sound of her name on Utena’s lips (even if it wasn’t said in a way that meant anything she wanted it to). It was the first time Utena had said her name…

 

She realized that to Utena they were still doctor and patient, and that what she was doing was entirely inappropriate. With some effort she pulled her hands away and picked up Utena’s right forearm. Utena was completely limp now, looking like she was about to keel over at any moment. Her cheeks were burning…Anthy wondered if it was with shame?

 

She tut-tutted over the hand. Bloody and bruised, it was broken, no doubt about it, and probably in several places. Injuries like that didn’t ever heal fully either (not in the real world). Anthy felt pain deep inside, pain for all the happy times that she had fantasized about for their future, when Utena would be playing sport with all her considerable talent (and she would be watching from the sidelines, well content).

 

Utena’s eyes opened.

 

“You’re crying,” she said quietly, gazing down at Anthy. “Why are you crying?”

 

“Your hand,” said Anthy, and they both looked at it. “Why did you do this?” Utena looked strained but she answered readily enough.

 

“It was better than hitting you.” She glanced down then, looking appalled at herself. “Uh sorry.”

 

“That wasn’t you,” whispered Anthy, wanting to whisper so much more. But she couldn’t…not yet…

 

“It was the swords?” Utena rolled her eyes, and then dejectedly slid down the wall, pulling her hand back to her chest. Anthy knelt down beside her, putting a hand on her knee.

 

“Yes,” she said simply.

 

“That’s an excuse,” muttered Utena. “Even I know I’m crazy.”

 

“You’re not,” pressed Anthy, “the swords are real.” Utena stared at her.

 

“You’re crazy,” she said. Anthy smirked at her.

 

“We’re both crazy?” she asked gently, like she would an errant child. “I’m a trained psychiatrist you know.” Utena’s lips curved in a reluctant grin.

 

“Well I’ve heard things about psychiatrists…”

 

“Have you?” Anthy’s voice turned coy. Once again she wanted very badly to take more than Utena was ready for, to lean forward and press a kiss to…

 

She leaned back.

 

“You resisted the swords,” she said instead. “Suppressed them. That’s good. We don’t have to start all this again.”

 

“Is that what we would’ve done?” Utena wanted to know, and something flickered in her eyes that reminded Anthy of another time, another world.

 

“Yes,” she said simply. “As many times as it took. As it takes.” She smiled encouragingly at her patient, and was finally rewarded with an answering smile. Small and tired, but real, and better still the only smile in the world she cared to receive.

 

“We’ll call a nurse for your hand,” she decided, glancing at the hole in the plasterboard. “We need a cover-story…”

 

“You’re a very strange doctor,” said Utena, looking at the hand Anthy still rested on her knee. “I think I like it.”

 

Anthy smiled again, delighted. Had Utena just flirted with her?! No…surely not…

 

“I’ll get a painting,” she decided out loud. “This office needs a painting.”

 

“Right in the corner,” mumbled Utena and started giggling.

 

Seconds later Anthy started giggling to.

 

* * *

 

Mamiya watched Utena across the chessboard, watched fondly as her brow furrowed and she scowled ferociously at his pieces. Her right hand was plastered, and held against her chest in a sling. He could tell the restraint bothered her; she kept itching at the tie at the back of her neck. This distraction was necessary.

 

“I hate chess,” mumbled Utena, hesitantly starting to move a pawn and then stopping again. “I’m just no good at it.”

 

“I taught you, didn’t I?” said Mamiya calmly. “And I’m an excellent player.”

 

Utena’s eyes flickered up for a moment and she smirked at him.

 

“And so modest.” He smirked back. He smirked again when she finally did move. It was true; Utena was one of the worst players he’d ever seen. It was going to be a great challenge to bring his playing down to her level. He studied the board, wondering how he could keep her from losing in the next five moves…out of the corner of his eye he saw her scratch the back of her neck again.

 

“Stop it, Tenjou-san,” he murmured absently. “You’ll get a rash.”

 

“It itches,” she whined, then had the good grace to stop and blush. “Look, I’m really trying not to. It’s just damn hard.”

 

“Here,” he murmured absently, reaching out without looking up from his task. “Take my hand.” When she did seconds later he was shocked by the tingle he felt, so shocked he looked up. For a moment pink hair was all he could see, pink hair and a laughing man who so rarely laughed, who usually only talked in terms of scientific equations…

 

He blinked again. It was Utena (not Souji…never Souji again…) chortling down at him, and he realized she thought it was funny that he (little boy that he was) thought he could stop her from scratching by holding her hand.

 

“That’s sweet, Mamiya-kun,” she said between giggles, then started laughing again. For a moment he glared at her. Then he smiled back: she was impossible to resist. But inside he felt sad for different reasons.

 

Was this what happened when a doll with no heart got given a heart?

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked him, stopping laughing and brushing a comforting thumb over his hand.

 

“Nothing,” he lied, staring furiously at the chess pieces.

 

“Sure,” she said, “and I’m not itchy either.”

 

He glared at her, irritated by her characteristic persistence. It was exactly what he loved about her…when it wasn’t making his life difficult.

 

She chewed her lip, and suddenly looked serious, as serious as he’d ever seen her.

 

“Hey, Mamiya-kun,” she said quietly, “if something ever troubles you…”

 

He closed his eyes, steeling himself against what was coming next.

 

“Come talk to me about it first,” she continued, gazing across the chessboard earnestly. “No matter what, we’ll help each other. That’s the kind of friends I want us to be.”

 

Mamiya’s heart thundered in his chest.

 

_How does she know? Does she know?_

 

He opened his eyes to find Utena gazing at him thoughtfully. Helplessly he felt himself gaze back in utter wonder, just like the first time she’d said it as they lay together. He’d said nothing then, just turned the (strange) words over and over in his mind, until they’d exploded out of his (dead) heart during the duel with Saionji.

 

He’d screamed her name, shocking himself, shocking his brother he was sure, who was watching as per usual from the balcony overhead, even shocking Utena. And he’d moved…moved between Utena and the onrushing Saionji, clutching her to his chest. Then (miraculously) had come a new ritual calling forth a new sword, words that had come to the rose bride’s tongue unbidden, welling up from somewhere deep inside. From the place where a heart had once beaten…so many years ago…

 

Utena’s nobility had made it so. Her sweet (naive) offer of friendship; the rose bride had never had a friend before.

 

“I’ve never had a friend before,” he murmured, not really knowing what he was saying. Utena stared at him in apparent consternation, her eyes shimmering with compassion.

 

“If….if you just opened your heart, anyone would want to be your friend!” she declared, and he shivered again; the sense of déjà vu was that strong.

 

“Y…you barely know me,” he said weakly, his hand spasming a little in hers (What she did to him…).

 

“But I know I want to,” she said decidedly, as though it was already decided between them. Utena looked a little embarrassed then, ducking her head, and peering up at him through her lashes.

 

“Sorry if I sound weird…I just feel like I’ve known you before...”

 

“I do too,” he said softly, and he felt himself warming from his head to his toes.

 

_She knows me…_

 

She was the only one who ever had.

 

“Am I gonna lose?” she asked, looking down at the chessboard but not letting go of his hand. “I feel like I’m losing.”

 

“Well…” he said, looking too, “it doesn’t look…”

 

Utena cried out and folded over in two, clutching her ribs with her good arm. Mamiya stared at her aghast. She cried out again, falling off her chair against their table, scattering chess pieces everywhere. A nearby patient gasped and pointed. Another started moaning and rocking, agitated at the disturbance.

 

“Utena-sama, no, no,” gasped Mamiya, forgetting himself for a moment as he stood up and bent over her, futilely pressing his hands to her back. She moaned again, slipping off the table to curl into herself on the floor, clutching her arm so hard her fingers left bruises.

 

“What’s going on here?!” The strident voice of a nurse rang out from the other end of the room. Mamiya glanced up desperately from where he knelt by Utena. Thankfully there was a couch blocking the nurse’s view, but only for now. The moment she saw (and heard) Utena their progress would be loss.

 

“Shh, shh,” he whispered, pressing his hands urgently against Utena’s shoulders, then smoothing her hair, trying to calm her. “Hide the swords, hide the swords.” Gods, she was shaking so hard, trembling almost violently beneath his touch.

 

“Don’t scream,” he warned her, as he watched her stomach convulse as she panted for air. “Please don’t scream. Please…”

 

Her eyes were screwed shut, he wondered if she even heard him. She began to keen low in her throat, and he could see she was biting her lip. There was blood on her chin. He cursed, hearing heavy footsteps and knowing the nurse approached. There were other noises now: more patients crying out mingled with the confused questions of orderlies. Mamiya closed his eyes. He had no choice.

 

“What’s wrong with her?” hissed the nurse, just as Mamiya’s hand moved away from the pressure point at Utena’s neck. She lay completely limp now, unconscious and unaware of the danger.

 

“Nothing,” he said nervously, “she was scared by the noises.” He glanced around as though they were also bothering him. The nurse hmphed and kept moving, now questioning the woman shaking in the corner. She called for an orderly who hurried over with a needle, and Mamiya heaved a sigh of relief. Safe, for now. He pulled Utena’s head into his lap and looked at the chess pieces scattered all around as he waited for the nurse and orderlies to usher the moaning patient away.

 

So close…

 

Making sure they were unobserved he pressed his hand to Utena’s neck, just so, and covered her mouth as she surged against his other restraining arm.

 

“Quiet,” he snapped, needing her immediate attention. She stared at him, eyes wide and tortured before she blinked repeatedly. He saw the sanity begin to return and hesitantly moved his hand.

 

“We’ll go to my aunt’s office,” he told her, “just be quiet until then. We can’t let anyone know. Hide the swords. Please, you have to…” She stared at him dazedly then nodded.

 

The next ten minutes was nightmarish. Mamiya helped Utena to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist, but she could barely stand and his strength wasn’t about physical power. Wincing at the harsh sound of her breathing as she fought back screams, he helped her to the couch and went looking for a wheelchair. A quick body-swap in a janitor’s closet and Anthy wheeled the chair to her patient’s side.

 

Utena’s eyes were startled, but she said nothing, clearly concentrating on her breathing. After helping Utena into the wheelchair the process of wheeling her to the sound-proofed office was relatively easy, and Anthy met any curious looks along the way with her frosty Nanami-imitation. Once inside she slammed and locked the door, and helped Utena lie down on her couch.

 

“It’s okay,” she breathed, gently pushing a cushion beneath her head and wiping away the blood on her chin. “We’re safe now. We’re safe.” Utena only moaned in response, then screamed as another sword (or swords?) took her, turning her face into the couch.

 

Anthy didn’t care about proprietary anymore. She sat beside Utena, stroking her soothingly: first her rigid arm, then her chest (her patient’s heart was practically slamming against her hand), then the shuddering line of her back as Utena turned completely away from her, curving into the couch-back.

 

She gave a little gasp as Utena gasped; watching this was like having it happen to her younger self, only worse. She didn’t know if she could bear it. Utena was shivering and moaning, over and over, pitiful sounds that Anthy had never heard her make.

 

_Maybe the drugs are better…_

 

Unthinkingly Anthy stretched out beside Utena, gathering her into her arms and pressing her to her chest. She moved her hair to the side and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. Utena’s skin was hot against her lips…she tasted a drop of sweat.

 

“Shhhhh,” she murmured, stroking the feverish cheek she couldn’t see from this position. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

 

But it was as far away from okay as it could be.

 

* * *

 

Anthy didn’t know how much time had passed, how long she had held Utena, murmuring comfort to her (at her?) until her own voice was hoarse. Utena had vacillated between screaming and groaning, whimpering one moment and then biting her fist the next.

 

But she was quiet now, and her previously rigid muscles had gone slack in Anthy’s embrace.

 

“Utena?” whispered Anthy, sitting up wearily, and gently tugging the girl over to face her. Utena’s eyes were half closed and completely dazed. She stared at Anthy’s knee without appearing to see it, and Anthy realized she’d reached the point past pain: the point where apathy began. She wondered if this was bad…it was fairly certain that previously Utena would have always been drugged before she reached this state.

 

_A doll without a heart…No…_

 

“Utena?” she whispered again, clutching at her good hand, needing some kind of reaction. “Can you hear me?”

 

To her immense relief something flickered in those eyes and Utena’s hand twitched weakly in her own.

 

“That’s good,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. “Good. I’m so sorry. So sorry for the swords, oh…”

 

Utena blinked, and appeared to be trying to focus on her.

 

“S’not your fault,” she muttered, and her hand twitched again. “Not your fault at all…”

 

“Isn’t it?” whispered Anthy, past the point of her own iron control. “Oh, Utena-sama…”

 

“Don’t call me that,” slurred Utena, closing her eyes. “You know I hate it when you call me that…”

 

Anthy stared down at her in shock. It was too late to ask Utena what she meant, her even breathing meant she’d fallen asleep. That was a relief in a way…and a crushing letdown in yet another way. Suddenly as tired as she’d ever been Anthy found herself lying down too. She’d just rest for a minute. She had to regain her equilibrium.

 

Pressing herself to the warmth that was Utena she closed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

She woke with a start, realizing that something heavy was pinning her down, and a cruelly tight hand had one of her arms imprisoned. Still foggy with sleep she stared up wildly into Utena’s enraged expression. Tears were cascading down her patient’s cheeks, but she was scowling and that strange light was burning in her eyes.

 

“Damn you!” screamed Utena, spittle flying, shaking Anthy violently. She was half on top of her, holding her down and making it difficult to breathe.

 

 _She looks crazy,_ thought Anthy desperately. _Insane…_

 

“Stop it,” Anthy told her, as calmly as she could. “It’s me.”

 

“I know it’s you!” screamed Utena, “what, you think I’m an idiot?! You’re the woman from my dreams…”

 

“Yes,” said Anthy, because that was probably true.

 

“You’re not a doctor, are you?” hissed Utena.

 

Anthy reached out her free hand and smoothed it down Utena’s side, trying to calm her. She wasn’t prepared for Utena to rear back as though burned, and then backhand her across the face. Tears flooded her eyes and she cupped her cheek instinctively, utterly shell-shocked.

 

_She hit me…Utena, of all people…_

 

It seemed to shock Utena too; the girl went completely still, staring down at Anthy as anger and uncertainty warred in her accusing eyes. Silence stretched between them.

 

“Sorry,” muttered Utena finally, climbing off Anthy, levering herself awkwardly off the couch. “That was really messed up.” Unsteadily she moved to the window and stared blindly out. Anthy sat up on the couch and looked at that familiar back, at the familiar dejected pose. It reminded her of that other time…that other window and her victor not knowing in the slightest what to say about the violence she had observed rather than committed.

 

_“A lot has happened since I met you, hasn’t it? Really…so many things.”_

 

Utena had been so sad then. So sad that even Anthy could feel something of it, could appreciate the hurt that someone else might feel. Could take a small step toward empathy, if for only the slightest instant. On this night, at this window she felt everything…her heart was hemorrhaging for Utena…

 

Quietly she glided over to Utena and gently set her hand between the other girl’s shoulder-blades.

  
“Utena,” she whispered, unable to stop the name from ghosting past her lips.

 

“You’re not a doctor, are you?” repeated Utena, this time passive under her touch. “You came here for me.”

 

“Yes,” said Anthy tensing. “Yes, that’s true.”

 

“Yeah,” agreed Utena, “You came to find me.”

 

“Have I found you?” asked Anthy, wild hope surging up her spine.

 

“I don’t think it’s possible,” said Utena, and her head fell forward against her chest then, as if she knew some horrible secret that Anthy could only guess at. “All that’s left is the swords.”

 

She turned abruptly, and almost roughly seized Anthy’s shoulder with her good hand.

 

“They hate you.” It was snarled from between clenched teeth.

 

Anthy merely shrugged beneath the hand, keeping herself calm, knowing that every move she made now counted. Just like in chess. Anthy was very good at chess, the best she knew of (Even better than Souji…poor Souji…).

 

“Do they?” she said calmly, not really interested in the answer. “How interesting. But what about you?”

 

“Me?” Utena blinked.

 

“How do you feel about me?”

 

“About you?”

 

“Yes.” Anthy gazed deeply into Utena’s frightened eyes.

 

Utena blinked again. Her hand twitched.

 

“I uh…I, I guess I don’t know. I don’t know you…”

 

“Don’t you?”

 

“Um…”

 

“Aren’t I the ‘woman from your dreams’?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“So you must know me.”

 

“I guess…no wait! You’re confusing me.” Utena pulled her hand back to rest her face in it. Anthy continued, gentle but implacable.

 

“Am I?”

 

“Stop it!” Utena’s voice was frayed. “I hate it when you do this!”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Play games. You’re always playing games. I didn’t know that before, but now…”

 

Anthy felt her own eyes growing wide. Utena was staring over her shoulder absently, apparently unaware of what she’d just revealed.

 

“They hurt,” she muttered, clearly a million miles away. A million swords away.

 

“I know,” whispered Anthy, “I know.” And she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Utena’s waist, burying her face in the other girl’s chest to the side of her cast. Utena just stood there unresisting, looking over Anthy’s head at something only she could see. But Anthy could imagine it, she could imagine it just fine.

 

* * *

 

Mamiya sat next to Utena at the far end of the dining table, with all the spare seats between them and the rest of the patients.

 

“Eat your noodles,” he reminded her gently, and she obeyed, lifting her chopsticks for the first time since they sat down.

 

It was a week later and the danger of screaming seemed past: Utena was much too out of it to do more than sit and stare and mumble half-answers. It was like she was back on medication even though she wasn’t. Mamiya knew it was the swords, overwhelming her, drowning out everything that Utena had been, everything he cherished.

 

And he didn’t know the answer to this problem.

 

“Tenjou-san,” he asked, desperate to have her interacting as opposed to sitting static. “Why do you hate, Himemiya-sensei?”

 

“What?” she said, but with barely any intonation. She looked faintly puzzled. “Who told you that?”

 

“You did of course,” he lied smoothly, and after a few blinks she took another bite of noodles, leaving it uncontested.

 

“Oh,” she said. “Well I don’t.”

 

“You don’t?” He stared at her.

 

“I don’t really feel anything,” she said with a shrug. “I feel…empty.”

 

“Empty,” he echoed miserably, thinking that this was worse than hate, worse than fiery passion. Even worse than slapping.

 

“Yeah.” She sighed and returned to chewing.

 

 _They’ve carved out your insides_ , he thought and he felt sick through and through. _They’ve cut around your heart and carved it right out of your chest…_

 

“And me?” he asked sadly. “Do you feel anything about me?”

 

“We’re friends,” she said, though it seemed like it was an effort for her to say the words. “No matter what I feel.”

 

Mamiya blinked. The nobility of this statement made his eyes sting.

 

 _I am Anthy,_ he wanted to shout, crying it over and over until it woke Utena out of her stupor.

 

But he didn’t, because it would do no such thing.

 

* * *

 

“I have a friend,” Utena told Anthy, a few days later in one of their sessions. “His name is Mamiya.”

 

“Oh?” said Anthy, heart suddenly thundering in her chest. She wondered where Utena was going with this. From his hiding place in her desk draw ChuChu offered a soft inquisitive cheep.

 

“I don’t know his last name,” said Utena dreamily. “It’s never seemed important.”

 

“This is a patient?” checked Anthy, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be Mamiya’s aunt. She was just so flustered…

 

“No,” said Utena and Anthy goggled. “He’s more like a figment of my imagination. I mean, he never spends any time with anyone but me. I don’t think anyone else sees him.”

 

“Oh,” said Anthy faintly, shocked into reacting rather than acting.

 

_I didn’t know that…I didn’t realize…_

 

“He might be real,” went on Utena, stretching out her hands behind her head. “I’m not great at knowing what’s real.”

 

“The swords are real,” said Anthy, because she knew that Utena doubted this at times.

 

“Yeah,” said Utena, and Anthy was surprised at how sharp her gaze suddenly was. “But Mamiya-kun is not like that. He’s like you.”

 

“What?” The question came out strangled. Anthy was frozen on her chair. There was a soft plop as ChuChu fell over in his draw in a dead faint.

 

“You’re his aunt,” said Utena, “right? That’s what he told me.”

 

“Uh…yes.” Anthy blinked again.

 

“Well it’s an amazing family resemblance,” said Utena, calmly, quietly, almost fiercely. “And he must have grown up with you, or something, because the way you talk…”

 

Anthy couldn’t breathe.

 

“It’s exactly the same. Exactly.”

 

Anthy couldn’t gasp for air.

 

“It made me realize something,” said Utena, rubbing her good hand up and down her injured arm. Anthy’s wide eyes followed the motions. She swallowed, then wet her lips, phrasing her next question with difficulty.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“You’re my friend.” Utena’s hand stilled, and she hugged her arm to her chest. Somehow her eyes were very blue, more so than Anthy had seen since her arrival. She even offered Anthy a tiny smile, more of a lip quirk really.

 

Suddenly Anthy could breathe again.

 

“Yes.” She put a hand to her racing heart and smiled back at Utena, as much as she could manage. “I’m your friend.”

 

They gazed at each other across the room.

 

* * *

 

“I’m getting used to the swords,” Utena told Mamiya, as they faced each other in their respective beds after lights out. “They’re not so bad as they were.”

 

“Really?” said Mamiya disbelievingly. “You mean you’re growing numb.”

 

“In my dreams,” said Utena distantly, “you’re used to the swords.”

 

“You mean Himemiya Anthy,” said Mamiya.

 

“Yeah,” said Utena, “I’m sorry, I get you two confused.”

 

“We’re not the same,” whispered Mamiya, and he didn’t know who he was trying to convince.

 

“Yeah,” said Utena, “I’m not the same either.”

 

They lay in silence for awhile.

 

“You shouldn’t have to bear the swords,” said Mamiya finally, and he was surprised at how bitter he sounded. “It isn’t fair.”

 

“Life isn’t fair,” murmured Utena. “I think you told me that.”

 

“The rose bride told you that.”

 

“…the rose bride?” Utena sounded confused but not upset. Mamiya blinked. He hadn’t meant to call her that…

 

“Sorry. I mean Himemiya Anthy.”

 

“Oh yeah. So she had the swords, right? I remember that…”

 

“Do you?”

 

“It wasn’t fair. It was cruel, so cruel, too cruel…”

 

Mamiya watched in awe as fat tears rolled down Utena’s cheeks at the memory.

 

“But you saved her,” he reminded her, caught between wanting her to stop crying, and wanting her to keep showing emotion.

 

“I did?” Utena scrubbed furiously at her cheeks with her good hand.

 

“You did,” he said firmly, willing her to believe it. “What do you think we’re doing here?”

 

Utena stared across the short distance between them, eyes luminescent in the darkness.

 

“Sometimes I think this is all a dream,” she said faintly. “When I wake up I’ll be back there.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Back in the rose garden. Back in the East Dorm. Back on the arena, back in the tower…back with her.”

 

“We’re never going back,” said Mamiya fervently. “I hate it there.”

 

“Why?” asked Utena, wide-eyed and curious.

 

“I was never free,” said Mamiya, “it was all a game, a farce.” He stared at his (only) friend and begged her with his eyes. “Please Utena. We can’t go back.” He felt the shivering start as he thought of that darkest of rooms lit only by the furnace. Another rose garden, this one a water tank bearing a single black rose. Souji, lying in the bed across from him, sizing him up with those knowing violet eyes.

 

Mamiya blinked.

 

Souji’s eyes were blue…

 

“We won’t go back,” whispered Utena. “Not if you don’t want to.”

 

Mamiya realized it was Utena, not Souji and it was the real world, not the world of a professor’s precious memories. Trembling he burrowed under his covers.

 

“We won’t go back,” he repeated, “we won’t go back.” It was a mantra, protecting him against the past.

 

* * *

 

Mamiya sat in Anthy’s office, reading one of her reports. There was a knock at the door and he looked up, not surprised as Utena slid inside.

 

“Mamiya-kun?” she said, looking confused. “Where’s Himemiya-senpai?”

 

“Who?” asked Mamiya, and then, “oh, you mean my aunt.”

 

A strange creature leapt out the desk draw and danced about on the desk, uttering enraged Chus. Utena’s jaw dropped.

 

“What’s that?” she asked.

 

“I don’t know,” said Mamiya, “it looks like a monkey.” The creature leapt at him, biting his finger with a squawk of outrage. He yelled and pulled away.

 

“I’ve got it!” Utena had raced across the room (she was damn fast when she wanted to be) to trap the creature with her good hand. To their combined shock the animal flung its paws around Utena’s neck and started sobbing.

 

“I think it’s hurt,” said Utena uncomfortably, trying to pry it away. “It’s awfully cute, don’t you think? And kinda familiar…”

 

“I don’t like animals,” said Mamiya with an apologetic shrug. “Souji-sama never let us keep them.”

 

“Who’s Souji?” asked Utena, failing to remove the creature and settling on stroking its fur instead.

 

“I…I…” Suddenly Mamiya remembered where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. His stomach filled with ice as he realized what was happening, how close he was to falling into his other identity.

 

But he wasn’t Mamiya, not really.

 

“ChuChu,” he gasped, and his pet flew across the room to cuddle into his neck instead. “I’m sorry…”

 

“Is that its name?” asked Utena. “Cute.” She retreated to stretch out on the couch.

 

“When’s Himemiya coming back?”

 

At the first use of this the name she’d always called him at Ohtori Academy, Mamiya’s eyes filled with tears.

 

“I’m here,” he said, and suddenly he was Anthy and she was watching Utena like a hawk, looking for any sign of horror, or dawning fear.

 

“Hi,” said Utena casually, scratching her neck and not appearing put-off at all. “What shall we talk about today?”

 

“You remember me?” asked Anthy, holding her breath, sweating with the effort of the change (It shouldn’t have been that difficult…).

 

“I could never forget you,” said Utena seriously. “Not really.”

 

“Utena,” murmured Anthy, and crossed the room to kneel by the couch. ChuChu raced over to perch between them, glancing from one to the other. Utena reached out and petted him.

 

“I like it when you call me that,” whispered Utena. “Hell, I told you to for long enough.”

 

The tears overflowed, running silently down Anthy’s cheeks. Utena moved her hand from ChuChu to wipe the tears away.

 

“What are we going to do?” whispered Anthy, needing desperately to lean on someone else’s strength. She’d come so far…she’d done so much…she’d been so alone…

 

“About the swords?” guessed Utena. “I don’t know,” she admitted bleakly. “It’s kind of a big problem. I mean…” She laughed self-deprecatingly. “Chances are I won’t remember you in five minutes. Or else I won’t care.”

 

“We can have moments,” said Anthy desperately, thinking that really, that wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

 

“Sure,” said Utena but there was fear in her eyes, and Anthy knew it was a miracle she’d borne up under the sword’s assault for as long as she had. This could well be the end of them, the end of their ‘someday together’. It had been so short…only minutes…

_NO!_

 

This couldn’t be all there was. She, Himemiya Anthy, He, Mamiya, It, the rose bride…they all forbade it.

 

Suddenly she knew exactly what to do.

 

* * *

 

Utena lay on the couch fast asleep.

 

In her dreams (was she dreaming?) she was lying in a cabin, dressed in the uniform of the prince. She was aching all over, panting weakly as she tried to push herself into a sitting position. She was needed. They needed the prince. They always needed the prince. There were people out there, innocent people, oddly angry people, all clamoring for her to get up and save them. She was trying.

 

She was trying so hard.

 

But there was a pitchfork (a pitchfork?!) skewering her stomach, pinning her effectively to the wooden floorboards. Every time she tried to rise her abused flesh would slide an inch up the prongs and she would scream with agony and fall back helplessly.

 

The knocking grew louder. The people were shouting, demanding. Utena lay back and sweated and shivered and tried not to look out the window. If she looked out the window she’d see that the farmers had pitchforks. The farmers were a mob hefting pitchforks.

 

“Tenjou-san.”

 

Utena started in surprise. She wasn’t alone any longer…a strange young boy was kneeling by her side.

 

“Who are you?” she asked him, having never seen him before in her entire life. He reminded her strongly of Anthy ( _Himemiya! Take my hand!_ ), and God forbid, of Akio ( _My prince…_ ). He was slightly built, his verdant eyes filling half his dusky face, with silvery hair and a red suit that evoked the rose bride’s dress.

 

“I’m your friend,” he said, his voice softly sweet. He smiled at her and his smile looked broken. His eyes were cunning and frightened and very very determined.

 

“I’ve never met you,” she gasped, as beads of sweat poured down her forehead at the horrible tearing pain inside.

 

“And you never will,” he said, “because I wasn’t your bride.”

 

“Br…bride?” she stuttered. “But you’re a boy…”

 

“I am the rose bride,” intoned Mamiya, and his smile was so sad she thought her heart would break. “Or at least a version. All my life I’ve lived for evil…”

 

Utena clutched his nearby hand, thinking that the pain in his eyes would be the end of her.

 

“Don’t say that!”

 

“It’s true,” he whispered. “And I’ve lived for an eternity.”

 

“Eternity?” she whispered back, the concept catching at her heart.

 

“Eternity means lasting forever,” he told her, cupping her hand between his. “For years, decades, centuries, millennia, eons, and on and on.”

 

She stared at him wildly, not understanding in the least. Mamiya’s soft voice continued.

 

“My life may be just a moment, but…eternity means that this moment lasts billions of billions of years, without end.”

 

“Billions of years?” she asked, voice breaking.

 

“Billions of years,” he agreed. “Millions of swords.”

 

“What?” she cried, desperate to know what he meant. But he was standing now, letting her hand slip out of his to lie limply at her side. His hands (slim dark hands) were on the pitchfork’s handle and while she stared at him terrified (of him, for him), he gazed at her with haunted eyes.

 

“Goodbye, Tenjou-san,” he murmured and his hands tensed on the handle.

 

“Mamiya-kun!” she screamed.

 

He paused and his smile seemed to light the room, the world.

 

“You do know me…see, I told you we were friends…”

 

And he pulled out the pitchfork in one smooth motion, while Utena screamed and thrashed and then held bloody hands to her belly while he strode to the door, while Utena screamed and sobbed and begged for him to come back, to please oh please stop, while he pulled the door open so bravely, without flinching, while the angry mob shouted their demands to the prince, shaking their pitchforks, while the young boy told them to go away to leave the prince alone she belonged only to him, she wouldn’t feel the pain any longer he wouldn’t let her, while the mob made threats and hefted their pitchforks, while Utena screamed and screamed and screamed, while the boy who was the rose bride stood in the doorway, barring the mob from entrance, holding back their demands, while the prince lay weeping for her friend, while the mob threw their pitchforks like a thousand shining spears, while the mob wielded their pitchforks like a million swords of hatred, a million swords of human hatred, while the boy screamed and died and went on living in agonizing pain for just a moment, and that moment went on for billions of billions of years…

 

* * *

 

They woke together.

 

“Himemiya,” gasped Utena, sitting up and pushing her hair off her sweaty forehead. “Himemiya, oh my God…”

 

“It’s alright,” whispered Anthy, sitting up also and burrowing into Utena’s waiting arms. “It’s alright from now on.”

 

Utena held her tightly, so tightly, and Anthy concentrated on the warmth of Utena’s breath gusting against her neck.

 

“W…what did you do?” whispered Utena. “The swords are gone.”

 

“I didn’t do anything,” said Anthy, “it wasn’t me.”

 

“It was you,” insisted Utena, drawing back and holding Anthy at arm’s length with her good hand. “I’d know you anywhere.”

 

Anthy lowered her eyes.

 

“It isn’t me anymore.”

 

“You’re safe?” Utena checked, moving her hand to tilt Anthy’s chin back up. “You’re…free?” Her eyes begged Anthy for reassurance.

 

“Yes,” whispered Anthy, caught up in the sweet moment of a reunion that meant something more than mutual pain. “I’m here now. We’re together. We’re free.”

 

Utena started crying, crushing her close, and Anthy kissed Utena’s neck, collarbone, shoulder, anywhere she could reach. She clung to her patient, her prince, her friend and embraced their someday.

 

Someday together.

 

* * *

 

Anthy led Utena out the asylum’s front door, ignoring the scandalized look that the receptionist shot at their joined hands.

 

They stepped into the sunlight, blinking against the adjustment of dark to light.

 

“What happened to him?” asked Utena, a strange note in her voice. It was the first time she’d asked directly.

 

Anthy glanced back at her erstwhile patient. It had taken them another month to convince the doctors of Utena’s complete recovery, but working together that was exactly what they’d done. Utena stood tall and straight, dressed in regular clothes (which didn’t look all that regular on her for some reason), her eyes bright and clear. Her broken hand was mostly healed and she had it positioned protectively in her jeans pocket.

 

“He was just a memory,” Anthy said, tugging gently on Utena’s other hand.

 

“He was more than that,” said Utena in that stubborn voice that Anthy knew meant Utena would set her heels in and refuse to move if Anthy didn’t answer.

 

“Fine,” she sighed softly as they walked out the gate and into the real world. “He was Professor Nemuro’s most precious memory. He was Mikage Souji’s purpose. He was the black rose bride, and he never felt a moment’s guilt for all his trickery until he met you. Here in the real world.”

 

“Oh,” said Utena softly, her eyes very big. A pause and then her arm slipped around Anthy’s shoulder, pulling her closer and resting there comfortably as they walked together. “I’m going to miss him.”

 

Anthy smiled a little, albeit sadly.

 

“That’s just like you.” They walked in silence for a moment. Finally Utena squeezed Anthy’s shoulder.

 

“What shall we do now?”

 

“Now?” Anthy slipped her arm around Utena’s waist and looked up at the sun, warm against her face, and out at the road stretching ahead. “Now we live.”

 

FIN

 

[FAN ART "Utena "Anthy's Turn"" by teyhy: <http://teyhy.deviantart.com/art/Utena-quot-Anthy-s-turn-quot-181534434>]

**Author's Note:**

> Out of all my Utena works this was the most cathartic in terms of 'writing the continuation of Utena that I wanted emotionally'. I felt the *need* to write a hurt/comfort fixit piece that wasn't really about drama so much as about exploring the angst and resolving it.
> 
> After all the angst of the ending of Utena is like the most angsty-ending-of-all-time! *cries in the corner*
> 
> Yet the beauty of Utena is that the ending is also incredibly hopeful, and I wanted to see that hope realised. Especially when it came to the Utena/Anthy relationship in "this world where we'll meet".
> 
> As for Mamiya, he's a character that has constantly fascinated me ever since the BIG REVEAL where Akio and he stand sky-gazing in the planaterium, and Akio makes a few pointed comments regarding Mikage's failure. Then he places his long spidery fingers on Mamiya's slim shoulder and we see Anthy turning back to face her brother with a small knowing smile on her face (OMFG Mamiya was Anthy all along! Arghhhhhhh!).
> 
> When I realised Anthy=Mamiya, rose bride=black rose bride and that Anthy had quite probably had different names/forms/roles in different 'dueling games' as had Akio, say since the dawn of time ...
> 
> ... my mind exploded. In a good way. :D
> 
> So it was awesomesauce to explore this concept and also to have Utena meet Mamiya for the first time (impossible in the canon), and befriend that 'missing part' of Anthy since she's so keen on knowing/loving Anthy. ;)
> 
> I also enjoyed having Anthy integrate Mamiya into herself by sacrificing the wicked (wickeder?) part of herself as it were, and for that to be his decision rather than hers. Not that Mamiya was truly wicked, anymore than Anthy was. But hey, you get the gist.
> 
> Or if you don't, hey that's Utena for you. :D
> 
> It was fun to write Anthy and Mamiya in their gender roles and pronouns, and have Anthy almost forget herself in Mamiya. 
> 
> When I read this story today I still find it comforting; we all need a good fixit from time to time. I hope it brings some of this comfort to my fellow fans too. Only after dousing them in angst though!


End file.
